God Bless the Man Who Says Religion Is For Weak-Minded People

Mon 2:29 PM 10-4-99
I'm at school.  The bell's about to ring to go home.  We were going out to play handball, but the kids were so noisy in front of the teacher next door's open door, I made then come back in and put their heads down.  I added another sentence to Jim this morning.  I ate a bowl of cereal and half a bagel with cream cheese.  I made two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to bring to school with me for lunch.  I picked up the newspapers; La Opinion had news about the quake in Oaxaca.  The Times had a lot of stories about next year's presidential campaigns.  I don't know who I like between Gore and Bradley, but Bush seems too inexperienced.  Ventura is in a lot of hot water for saying religion is for weak-minded people.  The opiate of the masses, no?  God bless him. The kids talked about their weekends and wrote in their journals.  At recess, I read an Opinion story about La Primera Guerra Mundial.  Sounded like the world brought it upon itself more than any one country or another.  This story placed the cause of the war in an 1888 conference in which the European powers divvied up Africa like they were sharing a pie.  The Germans didn't get any.  Ugh.  We did a phonics sheet page and a couple of worksheets.  The phonics page was about a trip to the zoo.  The math was about addition and subtraction and using logic to determine the winner of a race.  I ate my sandwiches and read more of the paper at lunch.  After that we had silent reading.  During social studies, we talked about prairies and forests.  We read that forests were lands with many trees, and prairies were lands with many grasses.  Then I'd ask, "What's a forest?" and one imbecile after another would answer, "A prairie?"  So the kids have all gone home now.  I've got to go to LACAS and buy a bunch of books.  Then I'll be able to watch the first half of the one-game playoff between the Reds and the Mets to determine the Wild Card winner before I have to go to work.  I need to read some Caribbean and type fifteen minutes.  Watch "A Simple Plan."

10-2-99 Sa 3:30 PM
We're in the parking lot at the Maize Maze in Ventura County.  It looks kind of hokey from here.  There's an announcer in a skybox.  Tim and Sarai are having a beer.  My head aches.  "What's up, Journal Man?" Tim asks.     "I don't know," I say.  Then I say, "Malachi."  I wait a second and say, "That's from The Children of the Corn."  No one's talking now.  What field trips should we do?  I'm holding a bottle cap. I've got to leak.  "Will there be Port-A-Potties in corn maze?"  I say.  Tim says, "Power on, Sarai."  "Go, Sarai, go!"  We're trying to get her to make the first move to get our drunk stoned asses out of the car.  A big Reaper looms over the entrance.  "Gree."  Maybe not. myTalk.com  The ICE HOUSE.  There's a polar bear in a beanie holding a mike.  WE"VE GOT YOUR LAUGHS.  I'm reduced to writing words I see out there.
 Sarai's taking my journal.

10-2-99 J, TIM AND I WENT TO THE MAIZE MAZE IN CAMARILLO TODAY...LOTS OF FUN BUT AGGRAVATING AT TIMES...GOT A LITTLE FRUSTRATING WHEN I SAW THE SAME WATER TANK FOR THE 5TH OR 6TH TIME.  TIM AND I LOST J FOR A WHILE; WE WERE GLAD WHEN WE SAY HIM AGAIN.
POOR J HAD TO HOLD THE LONE FLAG POLE BY SHOVING IT DOWN THE BACK OF HIS PANTS.  IT HAD TO BE SO UNCOMFORTABLE!  I HAD FUN CHASING TIM FROM BEHIND WITH MY THUMB FLEXED FOR PENETRATION (JUST A TEASE).  TIM REBELLED BY FARTING.
NOW AT --- SALOON.  A COOL LITTLE BAR THAT SEEMS TO HAVE A DECENT AMOUNT OF RETURNING PATRONS. IT'S A COOL PLACE JUST TO HANG OUT WITH FRIENDS AND RELAX.  ANOTHER HIGHLIGHT OF TODAY--IN N OUT!  YUM!  HAVEN'T HAD IT SINCE TAHOE.  (MAYBE JULY?)  J HADN'T HAD IN N OUT IN A WHILE, TOO.  HE WAS SATISFIED.
HOPEFULLY THE THREE OF US ARE GOING TO HEAD TO MONTROSE FOR THEIR ANNUAL OKTOBERFEST (TENDERLY NICKNAMED SLOSHTOBER-DRUNK BY TIM)  :)
iT'LL BE NICE TO LET LOOSE AFTER A WEEK OF STRESS.  WITH LUCK, PERHAPS SHIRELLE MAY CHOOSE TO COME -- DOUBT IT THOUGH, SHE'LL PROBABLY BE TOO TIRED AFTER MAGIC MOUNTAIN.
NOW WATCHING A SILENT AWARD SHOW (NO VOLUME).  SEEMS LIKE SOME KIND OF BAND AWARD SHOW....WHATEVER.  JUST PONDERED THE FOLLOWING QUESTION - WHY DO MINORITY GROUPS WANT AN AWARD CEREMONY JUST FOR THEMSELVES AND THEN TURN AROUND AND BITCH ABOUT HOW HOLLYWOOD EXCLUDES THEM?  JUST PONDERING...HAVEN'T FOUND AN ANSWER YET.  I'M SURE THERE'S A VALID BASIS AT ITS ROOTS--GOOD DAY/NIGHT SO FAR.

7:25 PM  Sarai just guest-starred writing in here.  As I'm sure she's probably written, we're up in Ventura on the way home from the corn maze.  My head is throbbing.  We're in a little bar in old town Ventura called the Buckhorn Saloon.  I've had a couple Bailey's and Kahlua with coffee.  Tim won two of three pool games.  A guy with a cast on limps back and forth from the dart board.  He says he's broken that leg three times.  He says he's also broken his collarbone and almost lost a hand.  None of us seems to want to risk continuing such a conversation with someone who's had such bad luck by asking him how. We're about to head back LA way to the Oktoberfest in Montrose.  Now we're in the car.  I wish we could stop by my house so I can take a shower, but Tim's calling the shots.  I need to read Caribbean and do a third person.

She Told Me to Pop It in Her Box and Three Kids Were Killed

9-28-99 12:45 PM W

It’s hot today. The kids are all fanning themselves with their silent reading books. I wrote a third-person page this morning and then accidentally erased it. It was lame anyway. I gathered my things and rode my bike to get a newspaper and then up to school. I read the sports page before school started. Miss Villasenor gave me some paperwork for that class coming up. She told me to “pop it in [her] box when [I’m] done.”  God, I’m a bastard. Whatever. I wonder if she would want to go see Dan Castellaneta at the Acme tonight. Hmm. The Reds and the Astros play a crucial Game Five tonight. I’m thinking of calling in sick to night school. A bunch of kids didn’t do their homework. I sent them to the principal, Gay Yale, and she chewed them out. She was hard to understand. Her words run over each other. I went to Taco Bell for lunch. When I brought my chalupas into the teacher’s lounge, it was crowded with potluck people. Miss Villasenor spooned some fruity dessert thing onto my plate. “Try this,” she said. “It’s good.” I tried it.  “That is good,” I said. Ms. Skully said she had a dream about me. “Wow,” I said. “I’ve been showing up in a lot of dreams lately. Karen Robards told me I was in a dream of hers, I forget the plot, though. Shirelle said she was mad at me for planning a party and not including her in a dream she had.” Skully said that in her dream, I got really mad at a parent meeting and a big fight erupted, and three kids were killed. “That’s disturbing,” I said uneasily. So here I am now. After this we’ve got to finish our chapter review of Mighty Waters. The kids couldn’t give a shit. It’s too hot for P.E. today. Maybe I’ll show a video. Maybe we’ll watch “Jungle Cat.” That's about the mighty waters of the Amazon. Maybe I can read some more Caribbean while they watch it. When I get home, I have to work on Jim for a while. Maybe I’ll get some beer and call for a sub. Tomorrow is picture day. Friday, I want to try to do this horseback riding thing.  Saturday, we have to help Steve and his wife move from Pasadena to South Pasadena. I don’t know if I’ll be playing baseball Sunday or not, but we’ll probably go out there to be sure.  I’d like to see “The Iron Giant” before it’s gone.

Pissed

9-28-99 2:05 PM Tu

I’m pissed at my kids because they are so self-satisfied with their helpless stupidity and would rather be stupid than put forth any effort to learn anything or try to figure anything out.       Plus, I hate myself for going to McDonald’s at lunch.  I didn’t want to be hungry at the staff meeting after school today.  I’m really depressed by these kids.  They make me want to give up because they don’t care.  I ate a turkey and cheese croissant at Lee’s this morning, too.  John and Mike, the two old retired guys in there, told me I should just take the money I won in the football pool and—

10:20 PM  I’m at home now at my desk taking a break from Power Pete.  Power Pete is a video game on my computer in which you play a GI-Joe-type guy on the loose in a toy store where you have to negotiate him through dinosaur-filled jungles, a killer-gummy-bear-filled candy land, and I’m presently being chased by big bad wolves in a fairy-tale land.  I just had a smoke.  Shirelle cooked up some stuffed chops.  The meeting today was a grade-level meeting for reps only.  I’m not a rep!  Anna had some Car Trouble.  The guys in the office were talking boxing.  I rode my bike home.  I read about the guillotine in Caribbean and put on the Braves and Mets.  Haha.  The Mets blew it.  Looks like I’m going to be leaving the Brewers to play in a new league closer to home with Gil and Carlos.  I fell into a rough sleep during the game.  But I still got time to stop at the Oaxacan place for a haircut.  It has a barber pole in front.  No wait today.  They’re going to get a new teacher at Pio Pico.  Maybe I should try to pull some strings for Florelle.  My desk is crawling with ants.  I keep tugging the hair around my nipples.  I should work out.  I hope we have a good day at school tomorrow.  The people at work were trippin’ on how hairy my forearms are.  What else?  I put the radio on KXLU.  The papers I rolled my smoke with are RIZLE KING SIZE Quality Papers.  I’m supposed to do a third-person page about the different communities to which a person can belong and the ways that can either conflict or overlap.  Like I’m a member of the teaching community and the community of drunk stoners.